Confessions of a Wayward Heart
by Kimagure
Summary: Neville's parents have come out of their living comas at the asylum...so why isn't he happy?


A/N: Oooh look, it's that Harry Potter thing that I don't own...O_o   
  
This was just an idea that's been bugging me for the last week that just would *not* let go until I got it down on paper. *shrugs* And after this, I plan on going back and attempting to finish some of my WIPs. The most notable of which being IWBYNL which is in better shape than the others because I've at least written half of the next chapter for it. X_x And because of the computer I'm on and the apparent lack of spell check, I hope y'all can excuse any...interesting spellings. To me, I don't think I've been too bad about it, but I'm sure there's a word or two that I've just butchered...*sigh* Bad spellers of the world untie! ^-^;;   
  
Anyway, this is set during their sixth year. Enjoy! (I hope...^-^;;;)  
*****  
Confessions of a Wayward Heart  
*****  
  
"Neville, what are you doing up here? Didn't you hear?" Harry asked hesitantly as he peered through the trap door that led to one of the more isolated portions of the attic. This particular attic room had a small window that faced west, so the sunlight from the setting sun was filtering in, casting dull glows on the room. Neville was sitting under the small octagon shaped window in his school uniform, the school robes cast off to the corner forgotten.   
  
"What? Oh...hi Harry."   
  
Harry frowned at the reaction. It wasn't like Neville to be this...subdued. Especially since he had more reason than anyone at this particular moment to be excited. In fact, if their places had been switched, Harry could guarantee that this moldy old forgotten attic would have been the last place he would have gone. It might have been possible that Neville hadn't heard Professor McGonagall's words, but still...considering how his name had been on almost every student, professor and ghost's lips, it was hard to imagine that no one else had told him yet. "You did hear, didn't you...?" He let the question trail off.   
  
"About my parents? Yeah, I heard." Harry watched as Neville nervously drug his hands through his hair. "Kinda hard not to, considering..." He added with a shrug, echoing Harry's earlier thoughts.   
  
"So what are you doing up here? I mean, shouldn't you be with Dumbledore or getting ready to visit them?" Confused, Harry plopped down beside Neville, drawing his knees up to his chest in the process. Here Neville was getting his heart's fondest wish. He was getting his *parents* back. And the blonde didn't even seem to be happy about it...  
  
...It just didn't seem particularly right in Harry's mind. Neville, like him, knew what it was like to be without parents. He knew what it was like to live with relatives who didn't care that much for him and who were embarrassed because he even existed. And here Neville was, not even happy that his parents--the people who would surely love him without reservation--were alive and lucid and eager to see him?   
  
It just didn't seem very fair, Harry decided in a moment of resentment. Oh, he knew not much about anything was fair. That was just the way things were, and the way that they'd always been. He was used to that. But it bothered him that here was Neville, granted a wish that Harry had harbored in his heart since he'd first been able to discern that the Durselys were in fact *not* his parents, and the blonde wasn't even *happy* about it.   
  
"Oh, I hadn't thought about that," Neville admitted, looking worried. "I do suppose the Headmaster's looking for me, isn't he?"  
  
"Well, I think everybody's been looking for you since you took off after Professor McGonagall told the class." Harry frowned slightly as he looked down at Neville's dismayed face. Professor McGonagall had been late showing up for their class, and the entrance she had made had had all the students gaping. She'd come in, crumpled parchment in hand, and with a breathless voice had announced that the Longbottoms, who had been magically insane for the last fourteen years, had finally woken from their live comas. Everyone's eyes had immeadiately focused on Neville then, of course. Neville, Harry suspected, had been overwhelmed by the attention, and without a word to the Professor or to anyone had fled from the room.   
  
"Well, if you managed to find me here, then chances are, he'll be able to find me too, don't you think?" Neville mumbled, more to himself, Harry suspected, than to him. " I'll have to leave school grounds. They'll have a harder time finding me if I'm not on school grounds..."   
  
"What?!" Harry couldn't stop from yelping incredulously. It was one thing for Neville to have come up here to hide from the unwanted attention of everyone down below. God knew Harry himself hated it when other people talked amongst themselves about his life as if it were made and lived simply for the benefit of their amusement. But leaving school grounds? Wasn't that a bit extreme, even given the circumstances?   
  
"Could you not tell anyone that you saw me? I mean, I guess I'll understand if you have to, but it will be a lot easier to get away if you don't. Then again, I'm not even really sure where I'll go so I suppose it doesn't matter if you tell because...well quite frankly, if I don't know where I'm going than you won't either. Maybe a place'll come to me when I call the knight bus..." Neville trailed off as he gathered his school robes up into his arms and shot Harry a beseeching glance.   
  
"Have you gone starkers?!" Harry ground out, feeling the resentment pile up a little as he watched Neville struggle into his robe. "What is *wrong* with you?"   
  
"Wrong with me?" Neville asked blankly, arm through one sleeve and the robe dragging on the dusty floor. "There's nothing wrong with me."  
  
"Then why are you running away? After fourteen years of having them not be able to even recognize you..." Neville went pale at that, but Harry barrelled on. "You get the chance to be with them again. You get a chance to *know* who they *are*. You're getting your parents *back*. And you're running away from that?! It's like a dream come true..."   
  
"No!" Neville yelled abruptly, breaking off Harry's indignant tirade. Startled, Harry looked over at the standing boy, shocked to see tears in Neville's eyes. "This is my worst nightmare come to life, Harry." The blonde bit out between gritted teeth. "Why on *Earth* would you think that this is my dream come true?" Neville closed his eyes in silent resignation and slid back down onto the floor beside Harry.   
  
"Because it would be my dream come true." Harry admited softly, and more than a bit taken aback as Neville's shoulders shook. "Because more than anything, I'd like to wake up one day and have my parents come back to life and come back into *my* life. I'd give anything to have a chance to get to know them, and to have a chance to get to love them for who they really were and not for someone's half forgotten memory of the teenagers they used to be."  
  
"It's different for you." Neville barely whispered the words, and Harry had to strain his ears to even hear them. Feeling slightly awkward, he reached out and placed a hand on Neville's shaking back as the boy kept his face buried in the knees he had his arms curled around.   
  
"How?"   
  
"How? Becuase you're you. You're *the* Harry Potter. You're a whiz at Quidditch. You get excellent grades. You've *battled* You-Know-Who how many times and lived to see another day? Harry, you're the kid that every parent secretly wishes *their* kid could be. You're everything." Neville peaked out a tear stained brown eye, and Harry could see the familiar glimmer of resentment in those eyes that he knew had been in his own earlier.   
  
"I'm really not that great. I'm just a normal kid too..." Harry returned with an embarressed scowl.  
  
"No, you see, that's just it. You're not." Neville snapped back as he lifted his head. "Normal kids aren't like us, Harry. They grow up with mothers and fathers who kiss them goodnight. They grow up with people who care about what they do with their free time. C'mon Harry, I know you know this from watching the Weasleys. I've watched them too. Normal kids have parents who scold them, who hug them, who wipe away their tears, and tell them that everything's going to be alright when things look dark. Normal kids have people who *love* them." Neville finished brokenly before turning his gaze away from Harry and back out towards the sheet covered furniture in the attic.   
  
Harry knew exactly what Neville was talking about. He'd thought similair things himself late at night, curled up beside the tower window, when he couldn't fall asleep. And as much as he'd like to believe otherwise, he knew deep down that he'd never be quite like the others here at Hogwarts. Voldemort and his machinations aside, Harry knew he just didn't see the world the same way other kids did. Home didn't mean the same thing to him as it did to people like Ron or Hermione. Adults were people to be feared, not people to look to for help or guidance or even love. Bullies never got the punishment they so richly deserved so it never occured to him to ever tell anyone; all he knew to do was to hide every thought and feeling to keep the amount of ammunition they had against him at a bare minimum. Neville may have been right, maybe he wasn't normal. Maybe he never would be. But Neville had people who cared about him. After all, Neville'd had family that had at least sent him letters and kept track of him, hadn't he?  
  
"You have your grandmother."   
  
"Her?" Neville shot him a look that clearly said that the blonde thought he had to be joking. "You should *see* the academic warnings I get about him, Frank." Neville mimiced in a high falsetto voice. "He's pathetic! If he weren't you're son, and if I didn't love you so much, why, I think I should have given up on him *ages* ago. He has such little magic, and he can't even remember the *simplest* of things. He's rather hopeless, and I doubt that he'll ever amount to anything. You should see the way he cowers. You'd think the son of a fully liscensed Auror would have a *little* more backbone. Honestly Frank, I can't do a *thing* with him. In a way, maybe it's for the best that you're not coherent enough to be aware of his meager circumstances, but I keep trying for your sake. Blah, blah, blah." Neville trailed off with a disgusted sigh. "She goes on like that for hours when we visit Mum and Dad. It's *horrid*." Neville closed his eyes for a moment and shuddered at some memory that Harry wasn't privy to.   
  
"What about your Uncle? Cousins?" Harry made a desperate stab in the dark.   
  
"I see my cousins maybe once every two years, and with my Grandmother around, can you see why they might be less than delighted to be around me? It's like being next to a moving target that always gets hit. As for my Great Uncle Algie...he almost *drowned* me, and he *did* drop me out a two story window." Neville dead panned with a serious face. "He isn't exactly the sort of person that gives a fellow warm fuzzy feelings, you know?"   
  
"So why aren't you happy about your parents?" Harry asked softly, still a bit shocked by everything Neville had revealed. "They *will* be people who will love you. You have a chance with them. You get to start over again and this time be with people who actually care about you." Harry's heart ached a little with envy at the thought. This summer, Neville wouldn't have to go back to his grandmother's house, while Harry...Harry was never going to be rid of the Durselys and their nastiness. Even gaining a godfather and a new guardian hadn't changed anything. To the wizarding world, he would always be some beloved celeberity--The Boy Who Lived, and at home he would forever be the Boy They All Despised.   
  
"You think they're going to just love *me*?" Neville asked in a voice that clearly betrayed that he didn't think such a feat was possible. "Oh yes, there are just so many wonderful things about me, I don't see how they could possibly find me lacking." Neville snorted sarcastically before dragging his hands through his hair. "Maybe if I were you, it would be different. But I'm not you. Not by *any* stretch of the imagination."   
  
"Neville, really..." Harry rolled his eyes. He didn't have the time or the energy to try and bolster Neville's flagging self esteem.   
  
"No *seriously*, Harry!" Neville snapped back. "Why *should* they love me? This isn't some stupid self pity trip I'm indulging in. This is *reality*, okay? Like they're going to fall all over themselves and be just thrilled because they've discovered they have a squib for a son? Get real. And that's not even going into every other screw up I've managed to accidently get myself into. Losing control of my broom like that first year, almost flunking potions second year--actually almost flunking potions every year, allowing the passwords to the Tower fall into Sirius Black's hands third year...it's a never ending list. As it is, it'll be a bloody miracle if I even make it to my seventh year, let alone to graduation. And these two people, these two practical *strangers* are going to welcome me with open loving arms? Excuse me if I sound a bit skeptical at the prospect." Neville shot him a hurt glare before focusing his eyes on the opposite side of the room.   
  
And watching Neville out of the corner of his eye, Harry thought he might have finally figured out what it was that Neville was doing up here and why. It's was odd. For his entire life, Harry had always had the Durselys telling him how worthless and pathetic and disgusting they thought he was. He heard it day in and day out every time he was at home. But he'd never *believed* the nasty things they said because they so obviously hated the sight of him. There was no reason to take any of the things they said to heart because Harry *knew* that they were nasty mean hearted people. They were the type of people who really weren't happy themselves unless they were making someone else's life miserable, and Harry had figured that out early on. The words hurt, but Harry didn't let them stunt who he was as a person, because he knew that the things they said about him just were not true.   
  
But with Neville? His Grandmother acted as if she had his best interests at heart, his Uncle and cousins always sounded as if they did things for his benefit. And unlike Harry, Neville seemed to have bought into all the awful biting criticisms they gave. Because these people were supposedly suppose to have his well being in mind, Neville seemed to have *believed* all the horrid things they said about him. It was like the blonde hadn't even stopped to question that maybe his grandmother's or his uncle's opinions might be biased. He'd just taken there words at face value because if these people were supposed to care about him and for him, what reason did they have to lie?   
  
"All those things? Neville, that's how your grandmother might see things, but you know, that's not how everyone else sees them." Tentatively Harry reached out to give Neville's shoulder a reassuring pat. "That's not how I see things. I mean, who was it that won the house cup for us when we were first years? And who cares if you flunk potions? *I'm* almost flunking potions. There's not much you can do when it comes to Snape and that class, no matter which Gryffindor you are. But you're incredible at Herbology, heck, you even beat Hermione at it sometimes. How much more incredible than that do you want to be? Professor Sprout lets you take care of the Greenhouses on the weekends, doesn't she? Just how many students do you think she's ever given that responsiblity to? Have you ever stopped to think that maybe the way things look from your grandmother's perspective may not be the way things are in reality?" Harry finished softly as Neville gave a tired sigh and slowly turned to look him in the eye.   
  
"I just don't know..."   
  
"Look, just give them a chance, okay? I'll even walk down there with you and stick with you until they get here. Heaven knows if it were me, I'd hate to be waiting by myself. And if I'm wrong about them...If they aren't the loving parents I think they'll be for you, then...then...then I'll figure out where Professor Lupin's been hiding out for the last couple years and we'll spend the summer with *him* instead of our wretched families. How's that?"   
  
"I...thanks, Harry." Neville finally said with a wry grin.   
  
"We better go before they do something drastic like send Peeves after us..." Harry replied as he climbed somewhat uncomfortably to his feet. He wasn't quite used to being this open with someone about the things he thought and felt, and honestly, the entire conversation had left him...well, not scared exactly...maybe just a little freaked out. And feeling maybe just a bit vulnerable...   
  
"So..." Neville said breaking up Harry's train of thought as he propped the attic door open. "Do you really think Professor Lupin'll take us in for the summer?"   
  
"Hey, anything's worth a try, right?"


End file.
